


Time Capsule

by masqurade



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: AND THEN IT DEATH OKAY SOMEONE DIES, F/M, bday gift for farah, but there are also really fluffy moments in this, there is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 14:16:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5542997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masqurade/pseuds/masqurade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucina first meets Inigo in the gardens by the castle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Capsule

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fullfirefafar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullfirefafar/gifts).



> there is smut and there is death but enjoy the fluffiness too
> 
> bday gift for **Farah**

 

    Lucina first meets Inigo in the gardens by the castle. Being the young age of ten, she is fascinated by many things, and Lucina soon finds herself staring at the boy with the hair that can’t be described as anything but _snow._ Shiny, soft, powdery, snow that leaves her breathless. Even though she can practically hear her mother chastising herself for her rude manners, in that moment, Lucina can’t help herself. The contrast with the bright colorful roses and _him_ – well, she would be lying if it is anything but an intriguing combination.

    “Hello.”

    The way he turns his head to look at her is as elegant as a waddling duck. It is awkward, as if the boy has to physically force himself to turn his head to look at her. Lucina is immediately swept away with the way his brown eyes widen. She can see herself clearly reflected in them. Her wild blue hair contrasts her white dress that she hates for its fluffiness. But seeing herself through his eyes makes her feel, for the first time in her life, truly _beautiful_.

    Not beautiful in the way that her father constantly fawns over her. No, this feeling makes the heat rush immediately to her cheeks, practically mirroring the boy’s now reddening face. She opens her mouth to say something, anything that can prolong the presence of her singing heart.

    “What is your name?”

    The boy fiddles with the hem of his shirt before becoming even more flustered under Lucina’s unwavering gaze. Gently pushing back his bangs, he hesitantly whispers, “Inigo.”

    Just like the wind, his words carry enough weight to make Lucina almost crumble from where she stands. She has to straighten her posture, despite her fumbling state, and Lucina has to bite her tongue. The need to hear his voice again is agonizing. The boy just continues to stare at her – with a profusely red face she might add – and drew in another breath, his voice much louder this time.

    “It’s Inigo.”

✯

    Inigo is never one for leaving any pretty lady, but he figures tonight will be a first for many things. Just like how he is standing against one of the pillars of the grand ballroom sporting a tuxedo that clung too closely around his build. He feels as if he is suffocating underneath the material. Tugging lightly on his tie, he loosens up the collar pressing against his throat.

    His eyes quickly scan the ballroom, refusing to meet any of the noblemen daughters’ eyes for anything more than a fraction of a section. Inigo is only looking for one person in particular to save his evening from total disaster, and he certainly can’t find such an idealistic thing from any of the girls giving him the stare from the waistline down. After a few minutes of searching, he finally lets out a long sigh. He is about to give up until seeing a sudden flash of blue in the corner of his eye.

    “You seem bored.”

    Turning his head towards the voice, Inigo flushes to see none other than the Princess of Ylisse, Lucina, suddenly in front of him. She has, as always, a smile perched upon her lips while staring up at him through her long eyelashes. Inigo gulps, trying not to lead his eyes astray when he realizes that Lucina’s dress is rather loose around the neckline. As things are, if Inigo peeks down at the very moment Lucina goes up on her tip-toes to inspect his burning, red face, Gods forbid he have caught himself a glimpse of her breasts.

    “Y-Your Highness,” Inigo manages to greet her. However, his voice unconsciously raises a few notches, sounding like a squeak. Clearing his throat, he tries again. But this time, Inigo makes sure to sound more confident. “You look as lovely as ever.”

    Lucina frowns at this. “So I’ve heard you say to many other ladies this evening.”

    With the absence of Lucina’s stunning smile, Inigo’s mind begins to instantly backtrack. It is as if the comment has literally punched him in the gut along with Lucina’s sulking expression. He is horrified by the thought that she can actually think he is giving her leftover compliments. The words fly out of his mouth before he can even think to stop them.

    “But with you I actually mean it.”

    He watches her eyes widen while his face burns from embarrassment. There is a moment that paces by them in silence before a soft melody begins to fill the ballroom. Inigo glances to the side, observing many pairs of people heading out onto the dance floor. He manages to catch a glimpse of his parents – Olivia gives him an encouraging smile before Henry manages to sweep her away – and it isn’t until a tug on his wrist does he turn his attention back to Lucina.

    She’s wearing one of her signature cheeky grins, raising her eyebrows with a twinkle in her eyes. Stepping away, she curtsies. Inigo dumbly watches her, wondering in what Gods name she’s doing until he feels stares burning holes in the back of his head. Not wanting to deal with the problems of other women, he takes his cue, and returns the gesture with a bow.

    “Shall we dance, then?” Inigo asks, straightening his posture to hold out his hand. The smile doesn’t leave Lucina’s face as she takes his hand in hers. He’s careful to bring her onto the dance floor, making sure to pick an empty space where he knows they won’t end up crashing into another couple.

    “You seem tense,” Lucina whispers to him while positioning herself correctly against him. Inigo follows suit, placing a tentative hand around her waist and gripping her hand with the other. He can still tell that eyes are still on them, and the nerves begin to get to him, making him gulp more than necessary. Seeing this, Lucina moves her hand for a split second so that it’s pressing against his cheek.

    “ _Relax_ , Inigo,” she hisses at him. The warmth of her hand is gone as fast as it came, dazing Inigo for a moment before he shakes himself mentally out of the trance.

    He forces a smile, hoping to look more confident than he feels. “Oh please, Princess. You should be more worried about any future suitors. They’ll be running for the hills after I’m done with you.”

    “If that’s the case,” Lucina says. “You’ll just have to take responsibility, and make me your bride.”

    Inigo laughs at this as he begins to lead her around in circles. They end up being able to match the other people dancing around them, making their movements seem effortless. He ends up being so caught up in their dance that he ends up forgetting to reply to Lucina’s declaration. However, he doesn’t think she minds too much. After all, if that is what she ends up wanting, Inigo doesn’t think he can deny he anything: he’d lose his bearings halfway through if he tries.

     Her blue eyes are staring right into his brown ones and Inigo finds himself examining the brand of the Exalt in her left eye. It’s beautiful, just like everything about her. Inigo would be lying if he says he’s not infatuated.

     He wonders briefly if this is how his father felt when he first met his mother.

    However, that thought soon fades into the back of his mind as he grins mischievously. Lucina doesn’t have time to react before Inigo is suddenly twirling her around, then pulling her flush against his chest. She’s giggling now, playing along as she wraps her arms around his neck so he can pick her up and spin her around in dizzying circles.

    It’s like they are in their own little world. Not once do they realize that they have become the main attraction on the dance floor until the song ends and they are suddenly alone, surrounded by the clapping of the onlookers.

✯

    They end up being partners. Inseparable ones at that. Inigo never dares leave her alone, for fear of the recklessness she inherited from her mother peeking out from within her iced heart. Being named the new leader of a whole new generation of Shepherds can get to someone’s head, and in this case, it does with Lucina. She is starting to drive him insane with worry that he constantly ends up sticking to her without actually meaning to. It’s known all around the castle now.

    There is no Lucina without Inigo, and the same goes for the other way around as well.

    “Isn’t it boring?” she asks him one day when he is busying himself by trying to read one of her tactic books.

    Inigo looks up to meet her gaze, raising a questioning eyebrow. “What is?”

    She gestures at him. “Staying with me all the time. It has to be getting dull.”

    He looks at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the book in his hands. “Not particularly. It’s not like I have anything better to do, Lucy.”

    This earns him a rough smack on the arm. He yelps in pain, then turns to glare at her from the corner of his eye.

    Before he can open his mouth to protest, she beats him to it, “I told you to stop calling me that. I’m not a child.”

    “I don’t recall such a discussion.”

    “It wasn’t a discussion. It was a _command_.”

    Rolling his eyes, Inigo ruffles Lucina’s hair, and he can’t help but grin down at her when she slaps his hand away. He loves to spite her, and she knows it too, so he ends up laughing once she starts to puff out her cheeks.

    “Stop _spoiling_ me with attention,” Lucina whines, snatching a book off the shelf with a huff. “You’re giving the maids a ton of things to gossip about.”

    “Isn’t that normal though?” Inigo asks. “I’m a dashing gentleman, after all.”

    “Who? _You?_ ” Lucina places a hand over her heart and mocking gasps. “Why, I didn’t notice! Have you looked at a mirror lately? There is no such gentleman here.”

     “Says the Ice Princess,” Inigo teases. “The one who is cold to everyone but the man who refuses to leave her side. I think _you_ are to be blamed for the rumors.”

    Lucina manages to scoff after a few seconds of stunned silence. By her expression, Inigo knows he has won this match, and he mentally pats himself on the back as she stomps away from him to sit at one of the tables in the library. He, of course, follows her, plopping down beside her like always. She doesn’t protest – although she does glare at him – and Inigo decides to take a strand of her blue locks, twirling them between his fingers. After a while, she looks back at him.

    “What?” he asks innocently, bringing the strands of hair to his lips. “Feeling the heat?”

    “Hardly,” she deadpans, turning back to her book. However, Inigo can see the pinkness of her cheeks deepening.

     He doesn’t say anything more, and for the rest of the evening, they spend it together unconsciously under the watchful eyes of a few whispering maids.

✯

    There can never be a time when Lucina can ever erase the image of war from her mind.

    Blood.

    Death.

    _Fire._

    Everything happens so fast. In mere moments, Lucina does not only lose her parents, but also her younger brother to the wreckage of the Fallen Dragon, Grima. It’s been days now and she can’t get a handle on her emotions. They are all over the place – a sense of anguish and loss repeatedly filling the empty void in her chest, making it knot up in a way where she can barely breathe.

    The Shepherds she has been training alongside for the past few years start to set up camp at her command. They leave her be – even Nah is a loss for words to say to her best friend – and she heads into the woods to make sure no Risen have infested the area.

    It doesn’t take long for her to hear footprints echoing behind her. Sighing, Lucina swiftly draws her sword, swinging it until it clashes against another sword. With a flick of her wrist, she knocks the other person’s sword out of their hands.

    “Why are you following me?” she demands, watching irritably as Inigo bends down to pick up his fallen sword. He sheathes it carefully – as does Lucina with her own – and runs a hand through his white hair.

    “Because it’s dangerous to be out by yourself,” Inigo pauses before adding in, “And because I wouldn’t pass up a chance to be your knight in shining armor.”

    “Stop with the jokes.”

    His smile falls. “Fine,” He gently takes her hand, pulling her closer so that they are inches apart. “Because I’m worried about you. Because I care. Because you deserved better than this.”

    Lucina laughs despite herself, and halfway through she starts to choke up. Inigo watches her carefully, as if he’s afraid to do anything more than just _stare_ at her. It makes her feel vulnerable, fragile, and she hates it.

    An image of her father and mother happily embracing flashes through her mind, and she doesn’t even bother to hold back the tears that begin to fall. Lucina steps into Inigo’s waiting embrace and allows him to wrap his arms around her without a single complaint. She grips the back of his shirt, burying her face into his chest.

    “ _You_ deserved better,” Lucina squeaks. She tries to clear her throat, but the constant falling of tears makes her efforts meaningless. “You gave up everything for me and I failed you. I failed everyone. _I’m sorry_.”

    Inigo presses his forehead against the top of her head and laughs. “Lucy, none of this is your fault.”

    _It is._

    The words echo in her mind over and over. It doesn’t stop. Her breaths are coming and going in gasps, making her legs lose strength. She tries to grab onto Inigo for support too suddenly that it catches him off guard, causing him to fall backwards onto the ground with Lucina along with him. Apologies are about to fall out of her mouth before Inigo’s arm is around her head, pressing her face against his chest once more.

    “I’m sorry,” Inigo says, using his other hand to run his fingers up and down her back soothingly. “I’m so sorry, Lucina.”

    And then she’s crying again. She’s crying so much that she almost misses the sound of Inigo’s own sobs from above her. They cry together – like they’ll do only when they are alone together from here on – and Lucina wishes to make it better.

    _No_ , she thinks. She _will_ make their future brighter.

    Because they both deserve it.

✯

    Lucina has never bothered to care about her life. She has her hands plenty full of handling others’ lives to even think about her own. However, she guesses that’s why Inigo is always at her side during battles. He keeps her grounded. When she is too focused on commanding the others, Inigo is the one protecting her. She trusts him. Probably trusts him more than herself and, at times, that truth scares her.

    Swinging Falchion left and right, Lucina is able to take out a few dozen Risen. The rest that manage to slip past her defenses are immediately slashed to bits by Inigo’s sword. The rest of the Shepherds are dealing with the other Risen coming from different directions, and Lucina is relieved to see that they are successfully holding them back.

    “Keep going!” she yells. “Don’t let any one of them near the village!”

    She doesn’t need any sort of confirmation to know that they have heard her orders. The feelings of a leader and the pressures of being a tactician are somehow mixed into an unknown burden pressing down on her back. She wonders how things would be if she didn’t have the Shepherds – the people whom she has grew up with and fought alongside for so long – and the image of them all having dinner after setting up camp for the night flashes through her mind.

    It takes a Risen’s head being hacked off in front of her eyes to bring her back from her thoughts. Blinking, Lucina sees Inigo peering down at her with a frown, his usual brown eyes now red, matching the blood splattered against his cheek.

    “Thanks,” Lucina says, readjusting the grip on the hilt of her sword. “Sorry, I was distracted.”

    Inigo clucks his tongue at her. “Clearly.”

    It still amazes her how different Inigo can be on the battlefield. Lucina remembers overhearing one of the elderly ladies they met on their rounds speaking about how similar he is to his late father. However, Lucina can’t recall the faces of his parents. They have been dead for a while now – longer than her own family, at least – and Lucina’s mind drifts yet again.

    _I wonder what they would say if they saw their son now._

    The air suddenly clears around them, and although the sky is still a dark, purplish gray, the fog has cleared immensely. For some reason, Lucina can hardly focus on what is going on, and before she knows it, her face is being held by the hands of a wide-eyed Inigo.

    “Hey, Lucy,” he says slowly, carefully examining her face. “I know watching my rippling muscles during fights can knock any lady, such as yourself, off her feet, but I’d rather you didn’t space out so much.”

    “Ah,” Lucina starts, but pauses briefly to slap his hands away. “That was _so_ not why I was looking at you.”

    Inigo grins at this, but doesn’t say anything more. By the way he gazes at her makes Lucina think he actually does want to say something, but Nah is suddenly pushing her way between them, reprimanding her for being such a “space case”. She can hear the rest of the Shepherds putting their own two cents in, and after all is said and done, they laugh together like nothing is wrong – like everything is okay.

    And for that few moments when Lucina catches Inigo looking at her with his usual carefree smile, she almost believes it.

✯

    When she clings to him, Inigo doesn’t dare push her away. Lucina has been denied many things, including a peaceful life with her mother, father, and even brother. A future she never wanted. A fate she never wished for. So Inigo refuses to deny her anything. She deserves that much, and if Inigo thinks of denying her _this_ – he is sure she’d end up crying alone in her tent without anywhere to possibly call home.

    “I want you,” Lucina whispers into his chest while fingers clutch the back of his shirt desperately. “ _I want you_.”

    Inigo can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He knows she doesn’t mean it. It’s the emptiness in her heart that is screaming to forget. After seeing all the death of the innocent and even their own companions, he understands the need to just _forget_. Sometimes not thinking about it isn’t enough. He understands. He _understands_.

    His conscious his shrieking at him from the back of his mind as he debates his next course of action. Inigo can’t reject her. That’s a fact that can’t be denied. However, he can’t accept her request either.

    _If you do, you’ll be a selfish bastard._

    Whatever he does, Inigo knows that his choice will have consequences. It’s just the matter of what consequence he can live with the most.

    It takes a minute for him to know his choice, but the shrieking doesn’t stop, doesn’t go away, even when he cups Lucina’s face with his hands and presses his lips against hers. It’s _exhilarating_. The sensation is addicting – soft, moist, and _Gods_ , Inigo can’t help but think how much he wants this. How, in this moment, she’s allowing him to have it. To have _her_.

    Everything he’s ever wanted since he was five-years-old.

    His hands slide their way down to her waist, feeling every curve of her body. Lucina gasps, but her groans are being swallowed up by the endless kisses Inigo is administering upon her lips. He feels her hands raking up his abdomen, and the fact that she’s purposefully lingering on his chest makes him growl at her.

    “Inigo,” she gasps, and that’s all it takes to break him out of the fuzziest parts of his mind.

    He shouldn’t be doing this.

    “Lucy,” he says, but she doesn’t stop, yanking up his shirt until he has no choice but to take it off and throw it aside. Inigo heart skips a beat when Lucina starts to trace the many scars with her fingertip, and he manages to gulp down a groan. It isn’t until her hands are at the rim of his pants does her snap back into reality and grabs her wrist.

    “Lucina, _stop_ ,” Inigo says – and _no_ , his voice did _not_ just crack midway through that command – but makes no move to increase the space between their bodies. He’s breathing abnormally, and so is she, and he can already see the look of hurt on her face. It’s so _unfair_ , because this is supposed to be “no strings attached”, but there are literally string hanging everywhere.

    He can’t do this. Not to her. Anyone but this girl he’s loved since forever.

    He wonders if his thoughts have somehow made their presence through the expression on his face, because Lucina is suddenly balling her hands up into fists, and she actually begins to _punch him_.

    “I hate this side of you,” she yells and proceeds in punching his bare chest. He allows her, but winces when she does because _boy, she is_ so _not holding back_ , and he can’t find any other words to say to any of this. “I hate you. I hate you _so much_.”

    She gets a good four punches in, but he stops her at the fifth, wrapping his arms around her waist, picking her up off the ground. He’s successful in catching her off guard, because he hears her gasp, and takes advantage of the opportunity to quickly drop her onto his bed.

    “I’ll go patrol,” he blurts out, because there is _no way_ he is sleeping here when he can barely keep his hands off of her on a normal day, let alone a night where she’s _begging him_ to touch her. “You can sleep here.”

    Before he can turn away, Lucina catches him by surprise – although, really, he should have been expecting this – and he’s yanked on top of her as they both fall back onto the bed. His arms are on either side of her head, letting him a great view of Lucina’s face. Even now, when he’s _so frustrated_ with her for doing all this, he still can’t help but think: _wow, she’s beautiful._

    Inigo wants to look away, but Lucina is already one step ahead of him, already placing her hands against his cheeks.

    “Just this once, can you do this?” she asks, blue eyes wide as she stares up at him. “Just this once, can you not be perfect, and just take all of me?”

    And, _just this once_ , he does. He takes everything – her pleas, her cries, her _heart._

    And, _just this once_ , he decides he will never forgive himself.

✯

    They never talk about it.

    They, themselves, aren’t talking. Not a single word. So there can’t be, in any way, a chance that they can talk about _it._ That. Whatever the Gods happened. Inigo just decides he doesn’t know anymore. All he can do is whisper silent apologies every time he sees her face, which is now once a day. If he is lucky, that is. The mercenary can’t even remember the days when he would follow Lucina around like a lost puppy.

    Inigo tries to find the situation amusing. _Now I can hit on all the girls I want_ , he thinks. But it’s all a farce and if he can’t even hope to fool himself then why would his companions with such a devastating expression on his face. Which is pathetic, really. Here he is, wallowing around the campsite like a Risen while Lucina doesn’t even bat an eyelash at the broken pieces of his shattered heart scattered on the ground.

_“Are you two fighting?”_ Inigo recalls Laurent’s concerned tone with a bitter smile. _“You haven’t been near each other in decades. Everyone is on edge because of it.”_   To which he remembers replying with a dry chuckle.

    _“I wish we were fighting. Fighting involves talking and having something to be angry over. So it would be better if we were fighting since now we don’t even acknowledge each other’s existence.”_

    Pressing a hand against his forehead, Inigo stops pacing. The pain caused from the twisted knots in his stomach aren’t subsiding and he actually feels like crying because of it. He is beyond frustrated – with himself, the world, his _life_. They are all a disaster and Inigo thinks it’s better if he just forgets it all.

    But that is fictional thinking, and this is reality.

    So he can’t forget. Nothing at all. And Inigo swears he can still feel Lucina’s naked body pressing against his own with a raving passion that can be almost mistaken as _love._

A light tap on his shoulder makes him jump in surprise. Stepping back a ways, Inigo turns to stare at a hallucination. Something his mind is conjuring up to ease the horrible stinging pain because it _definitely_ can’t be the real Lucina giving him the familiar evil eye with a slight pout. He has to blink and rub his eyes several times before he can begin to even think about forming any type of word with his dry lips to what he realized is the real Princess of Ylisse.

    “If you’re just going to stand around sulking,” Lucina whispers, right hand resting on the hilt of her sword. “You want to spar?”

    It isn’t acceptance. Far from it. Their current relationship is probably so unstable that they are both dangling by the nails off a cliff. However, it is something and that is better than what Inigo had just three seconds prior. Sacrificing a smile, Inigo nods enthusiastically.

    “You’re on.”

✯

    Reaching out, Lucina places both her hands on either side of Inigo’s face. He doesn’t look at her – or at least he _tries_ not to. It’s hard though. He can feel her gaze burning holes in his face.

    “You look like you’re going to be sick,” she criticizes him, and honestly, he thinks he just might be. However, it most definitely isn’t the kind of sickness _she’s_ thinking of, so he simply tries to laugh it off.

    “I doubt that’ll be a problem,” Inigo muses, pressing his index finger against the tip of her nose. “If I do, I’ll just have you nurse me back to good health. Oh! You should wear a little nurse costume too to _really_ get in the spirit of it.”

    This comment seems to have done the trick, because Lucina is absolutely _fuming_ , and Inigo wonders if this is going to be the day he dies. However, she doesn’t hit him like he expects her to – like she _always_ does – and, instead, grabs the collar of his shirt, yanks him down to her level, and licks his lips. Literally _licks him_ , and then she _smirks._

    “That’s _if_ you get sick, In-i- _go_ ,” and with every syllable she emphasis, she makes sure that their faces are so close that their lips are brushing every time she speaks. When Lucina sees Inigo gulp, she counts it as her victory, and walks away with a slight skip in her step.

✯

    There are days when Lucina gets away with teasing him, but then there are days like _these_ where she has no choice but to take her punishment underneath the watchful crimson eyes of her predator.

    “You are _mine_ ,” Inigo hisses between each mark he makes on her body. “Forever.”

    He thrusts into her, and every time he does, he sinks his teeth into her bare shoulder. Lucina presses her lips together, refusing to make any sound and allow him the satisfaction of knowing how much pleasure he’s giving her. However, her stubbornness doesn’t last. She can already feel her inner walls squeezing around his throbbing cock, and it takes every ounce of concentration for her just to remember to breathe.

    “A-Aah!” she ends up crying out, and _dammit_ , she can feel him smiling against her skin. A few thrusts later, though, and she’s so ready to cum, she’s screaming out his name without any realization to how _bloody loud she’s being._ “I-Ini _goAAAH!!_ ”

    It’s enough to send him over the edge, and they reach their climax together with Inigo trying to muffle his own pleasurable noises by presses his face between her breasts. After he’s spilled into her, and she’s regained some of her logical brain function, Lucina wraps her arms around his back, scraping her nails along his skin when he starts to pull out of her.

    She gets exactly what she wants, because Inigo is literally _hissing_ at her, and she finds it extremely hilarious.

✯

    Inigo learns that to be happy you have to make sacrifices.

    When Laurent tells him this, he expects it to be something more mild. Maybe about how he wants their room to be pink and how she wants it to be blue, and how he’ll go along with her anyway, because that’s what love is. It’s made up of small sacrifices.

    Sacrifices should never come in the form of arrows.

    Sacrifices should never be _this painful._

    It’s so painful, all he sees is black.

Inigo manages to open his eyes, and Lucina is the first thing he sees. She looks horrified, puffy-eyed, and maybe even a little relieved. He wonders how long he passed out, but it doesn’t take long for him to know that the pain in his side hasn’t gone away. He just simply can’t _feel_ anything.

    And, for some reason, he knows. He _knows_ , and Lucina his yelling something at him, but he can’t hear her. It’s hard for him to concentrate – but he knows, knows, _knows_ – and he should say it. For once, for the last time, he should be _selfish_.

    But Inigo can’t say it. Not here. Not after all this time, because it just wouldn’t be fair. If he says it now, he knows she’ll be his forever, but he won’t say it. He wants her to be happy – that’s all he has every wanted – and he’ll sacrifice those three words for her to possibly get her happy ending.

    Even if it’s not with him.

    “I never loved you,” he says, and the words burn his tongue – or is it the blood? – but he doesn’t take them back.

    Inigo wonders if she’ll hate him for this. He can almost imagine what she’s thinking – even in these last moments, he _knows_ what she’s thinking – but it’s better for her to be unsure than for her to actually hear it.

    _I’m everything you always wanted._

    But, it’s always been deeper than that, so perhaps she doesn’t know after all, and she probably never will.

    _You’re everything._

    Inigo can still see her yelling – sees her pressing her hands against his cheeks – but all he wants to do is look away before he does something stupid. He wants her to just leave, to go somewhere else, to be _happy_ in that somewhere else without him. But most of all: he wants to _sleep_.

    So he closes his eyes and forgets to breathe.

✯

    “You’re such a _liar_.”

 


End file.
